London Calling
by Ocean of Ashes
Summary: A sequel to Against the Odds. When Lucy Barnett goes to university in London, she is vaguely aware that son of old family friends, Joe Kovac, is also there, but soon gets swept up in her new life. But will childhood bonds catch up with them?
1. Arrivals

Disclaimer: ER and all recognisable characters belong to NBC et al, and I use them solely for recreation, and do not make a profit from them. Lucy Barnett, along with several of the other characters in this are my creation however.

Author's Note: I have been planning pretty much all along to write this sequel (yes, me, writing a sequel, a surprise I know) but I didn't think I'd tell you until I actually got on and started it. As I was writing Against the Odds, I kinda got a feel for Lucy's character even though she was still a baby (I definitely want a baby like her one day – she smiles a lot, she cries very little, and she loves rock music – what more could you want in a child?!) and I'm really looking forward to getting the chance to develop it here. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy writing it.

Spoilers: This is completely unrelated to the show, so none. It ties in with Back to the Beginning and Against the Odds, that's all.

_London Calling_

Lucy Barnett was sitting on her bed, her new bed in her new room in her new flat, watching great fat drops of rain run down the window, thinking that all the clichés she had ever heard about British weather were absolutely true. No wonder they always talked about the weather – something this grim had to make a worthy conversation topic. Her parents, who had flown over to England with her to get her settled in had just left, and despite her keen sense of anticipation at what was to come, she was feeling a tiny bit lonely.

There had been a few tears when her parents had finished lugging boxes up from the car, borrowed from her uncle, and the time had come for them to part. She'd been trying to be cool about it, but when it hit her that after today, she wasn't going to see her beloved parents again until she returned home to Chicago for the Christmas holidays, a whole two and a half months away, she felt her bottom lip begin to wobble. Hoping to hide it, she buried herself in her dad's arms. 'I'm going to miss you kiddo,' he said, and the emotion she heard in his voice made the tears she was trying to keep at bay prick at her eyes with ever greater determination.

'I'm going to miss you too Dad. Who else am I going to tell when they play a note wrong?' she teased, trying to sound less upset than she felt.

'Hey, cheeky. I never play a note wrong. Don't forget who taught you to be such a guitar legend.' He pretended to sound affronted.

Then, of course, at that, a whole host of childhood memories came flooding back, the years her dad had devoted to teaching her to play her favourite instrument, the sitting on her mum's knee when she was far too young to be up that late, let alone in a smoky club, watching, enraptured, her dad play a gig. That was enough to send her over the edge. A sob hitched in her throat.

Ray held his daughter away from him a little, using one hand to wipe away her tears. 'No tears okay? This is fun, remember, an adventure. It's going to be awesome, right?' He waited for a nod, and after a few sniffles, was rewarded with one. 'Come on kiddo, you can do better than that for your old Dad, can't you?' This time, she managed a watery smile, and he pulled her into a hug again. 'That's my girl. All good things, baby. Time for the next chapter now.'

Then once she'd just about managed to muddle through her goodbye to her father with most of her dignity, and mascara, intact, there was still her mum to go. They were roughly the same height, and when her mum pulled her into her embrace, Lucy could feel moisture on her mother's cheeks, which set her right off again.

'Goodbye baby,' Neela choked out. She couldn't believe her beloved daughter was actually old enough to be leaving home. She had been determined to let go without a scene for Lucy's sake, but she was finding it even harder than she'd thought it would be. Of course a mother loves her children; she loved all three of hers to death, but Lucy represented so much to her. If it hadn't been for her eldest daughter, she didn't like to think where she would be now. Eighteen years ago, her life had been pretty dark, and having Lucy had changed _everything._

'Goodbye Mum. Until Christmas, yeah?'

'Until Christmas,' Neela echoed. 'We'll all be looking forward to it. Now, you keep in touch all right? If there's anything you need, let us know.'

'I will.'

'And if you need something urgently, you have your grandmother's number, don't you?'

'Yes Mum.'

'Don't forget it's Jas's birthday next month, make sure you send her something, won't you? She'll be missing you dreadfully.'

'I know, Mum.'

She knew she could go on forever, but Neela took a deep breath and made herself draw her lecture to a close. She didn't want her daughter's ears ringing with nagging instead of a proper goodbye. She couldn't help herself from saying one last thing though. 'Right, now promise me you'll have fun, but you make sure you work hard as well, okay?'

'I promise,' she said solemnly, not seeing her dad's secret smile at Neela's fussing.

Then with one last teary hug, they were gone, and she was alone.

She'd decided to come to London to university a couple of years ago, after one of the family visits there that had occurred at relatively regular intervals throughout her childhood. The city had just captured her imagination somehow. It was busy and bustling, just how a city should be, but there was an incredible sense of tradition there. The buildings were just _so old_, and she'd decided it would be kind of fun to live there. Now the grand plan was actually in operation, it all seemed a little more daunting than she had thought it would be. It was going to be a Hell of an adventure though, and that appealed to her. She knew, as soon as the nerves had worn off, that she was going to have the time of her life.

The flat she'd moved into was in one of the university's Halls of Residence, and she was the first one to arrive. While her mum had been trying to unpack things and set out her room in that way that mums, even fairly relaxed ones like her own, felt the need to do, she and her dad had poked around the place, discovering six bedrooms, all nice enough but depressingly identical, a functional kitchen (well, it would be functional if she knew how to cook; apart from her looks, culinary skills were just about the only thing she didn't inherit from her father) and a lounge, which, if it didn't look exactly homely, could probably count as comfortable.

She was curious as to the people she was going to meet. She liked to think she was easy to get on with, but she knew that a lot of flatmates may have a problem with things she thought of as perfectly normal, such as blasting out rock music at all hours of the day and night, and going on random baking sprees, with truly horrific results, which was another of her odd habits. It wasn't until her father, usually so indulgent with his daughters, had flatly refused to eat one of her cookies that she'd heard the story of her mum's disastrous baking attempts and known where she'd got it from. At least her love of soccer, sorry, football, she must remember to call it now, which had set her apart at home, should mean that she'd fit right in here.

She also wondered what courses her new flatmates might be on. She wouldn't mind if there was another medic or two, but it would be nice to meet other people, with different interests, different knowledge.

As far as her own decision to do medicine went, it had been absolutely inevitable. She'd known, of course, that her parents would be as proud as punch if she did become a doctor, although her dad might have been equally pleased with a lead guitarist in any sort of band that successfully imitated anything from the early punk rock era, but they'd never pushed her down that route, for which she had been grateful. It had given her the time and the space to decide for herself that medicine was definitely for her. The only thing they had insisted on was that she worked on the hospital's Volunteen programme. They had said that it would be good for her, give her something to do, it would look great on college applications, and, her mum added, tongue in cheek, 'giving you something else to do might just ensure that your fingers don't drop off from playing the guitar so much.' Her dad had commented that his had survived okay, and earned himself one of her mum's priceless death stares.

She hadn't been opposed to the idea of being a Volunteen anyway; she had spent a fair bit of time hanging around the hospital over the years and watched how much her parents seemed to love the place, so she was keen to work there herself. She started doing the Volunteen work when she was thirteen, and what had meant to last for a few months had ended up rolling on for several years, because she had just got such a kick out of it. That helping people gene had obviously won through.

There was another thing she had taken from perpetually hanging around the hospital for five years. She _definitely _wanted to go into Emergency Medicine. That was where the action was. There was always something happening, something different going on every day, plus, if she was being really honest with herself, she knew she idolised her father to the point of hero-worship, and if there was something he had done, she had to do it too.

It had always been like that, even when she was little. Once, when she couldn't have been more than four or five, she remembered one day her parents were having a barbeque or something, and they had a few friends around. Her dad's old bandmates were there, along with a few folk from the hospital, including the Kovacs, her parents' best friends. She'd been playing with Joe in the sandpit when she'd got bored, and wandered over to listen to the adults' conversation. Her dad had been regaling everyone with some childhood tale of when he had once eaten an entire can of treacle, and ended up with his frantic mother carting him off to hospital to have his stomach pumped. Sure enough by the end of the day, her mum found her sitting cross legged on the kitchen floor, three quarters of the way through the treacle can and already feeling decidedly sick. She'd provoked just the reaction she'd hoped; off she went to the hospital, her mum clearly frantic and her dad suitably worried, but ever so slightly amused, and her stomach was pumped, thus fulfilling her desire to be like her daddy. It also gave her an utter hatred of charcoal, and since then she had limited her copycat tendencies to the guitar, medicine, and an obsession with cereal.

Thinking of home had brought another tear to her eye, and as soon as she realised it was there, she took a determined swipe at it. She certainly didn't want to meet her new flatmates with puffy eyes and smudged make-up – first impressions and all that.

In order to pass the time, Lucy put on some music. The Clash, of course; whoever moved in might as well know the type of person she was right from the start. She let the familiar sounds wash over her for a while, then gave in to temptation and picked up her guitar, playing along expertly.

She was hoping she would find some people she could form a band with. She just adored music, and played whenever she could. It would be great if she found some like minded people. She thought, in an entire city of brand new people, it couldn't be too hard.

It wouldn't be entirely true to say she knew _no-one _in London though. Of course, there were her large and indeterminate number of cousins, all of whom she knew vaguely (even if she got their names a little muddled up sometimes) but they weren't exactly close enough for her to give them a call and go out on the town, which suited her just fine. Her mother's side of the family was a little straight laced and serious for her liking; they clearly thought that her dad, while they couldn't resist his charm and smiles, was completely responsible into corrupting their well behaved, serious Neela into the relaxed, witty woman that Lucy knew as her mother.

The only person she knew, well, sort of knew, in London that she wasn't related to was Joe Kovac. Her mum had told her that Abby and Luka's son was going to be at university with her, also doing medicine. She knew her parents were quite excited at the prospect, and imagined Abby and Luka were as well, but in all honestly, it didn't mean all that much to her. The Kovacs had moved to Croatia, Luka first, then Abby and Joe a year or so later, when both she and Joe were very young, so she couldn't say she really knew him. They had returned to Chicago many times for visits, and she and her family had been to Croatia to stay a few times as well, but she and Joe hadn't seen each other for a few years and she wasn't entirely sure that she'd recognise him now. She knew their parents would like them to be friends, as parents always did hope you would get along with their friends' children, but she couldn't say she was planning to seek him out. She would probably run into him at some point anyway.

Just then, she heard the sound of a door opening somewhere out in the flat. Turning the music down a little, and laying her guitar down, she went out into the corridor. It sounded like her first flatmate had arrived.


	2. Freshers Week

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Thank you for the great reception you have given this, I'm really pleased that you seem to like it. It would seem that I am indeed addicted to writing this little, well, it's a trilogy now I guess, so I hope you enjoy this one as much as the others. NB. Despite the inclusion of it here, I do not advocate the stealing of traffic cones. I also do not advocate trying to cram traffic cones in the boot of a Vauxhall Corsa. They don't fit. Also, the 'Walk of Shame' phrase – it was widely used at my uni, but I don't know if it's a universal thing – if you got caught returning to your bedroom the morning after a night out in last night's clothes, you were on the 'Walk of Shame' and could expect to be heckled by anyone who saw you.

Joe Kovac opened one eye very slowly, then, as he realised the light was not yet so bright that it was going to cause pain to what was certain to be a very hungover head, he opened the other. It took a little while for everything to come into focus, but once it had he looked around him, trying to work out _where the hell _he was. He was in England, he knew that much, and he rather hoped he was still in London, but beyond that, he couldn't be sure. He did know though, he wasn't in his own room, or anywhere that he remotely recognised. Hmm, he thought, this could be interesting.

He propped himself up on his elbows, still moving tentatively, waiting for the hangover to hit. He hoped that getting a better view of the room would increase his chances of identifying it. To his relief, he saw from the generic decoration, smoke alarm on the ceiling and thick, heavy fire door, it was definitely a university room. In fact, catching a glimpse of the view out of the window, he was about eighty per cent sure he was in the Halls just down the road from his own. Looking around, he began to pay a little more attention to his surroundings, and he realised from the Johnny Depp poster on the wall and desk scattered with make up, nail polish, and a couple of empty white wine bottles, he must be in a female's room. Yep, sure enough, lying there next to him, was a girl.

Slowly, memory of the night before filtered back to him. It had been the Fresher's Ball, the monumental party to mark the end of Fresher's Week, and from what he could recall of it, he was pretty sure he'd marked it in style. He and his flatmates had really dressed it up, full tuxedos for the guys and proper evening gowns for the girls, and he had to say, they'd looked pretty damn good. The six of them had gone out for a meal in town, then made their way to the ball.

From then on proceedings had degenerated rapidly. There had been a lot of beer, then possibly a food fight of some kind (quite where they had acquired the food from, he didn't know), followed by more beer, dancing in the fake fountain the organisers and been foolish enough to install in the marquee, and finally, on the way home, a bit of traffic cone appropriation. Somewhere amongst all that, though he didn't know when, he had evidentially managed to pull a girl as well.

He began to extract himself very carefully from the bed, each movement slow and precise so as not to wake her, and started hunting around the room for his clothes, pulling them on piece by piece as he found them. He knew, of course, it was immensely rude to do a runner, but morning after pillow talk, he had found, was incredibly difficult when you didn't know a girl's name. She was called something beginning with 'L', he could remember that much. Lauren? Laura? Lorna? It was along those lines anyway.

He was just about dressed, minus his boxers, which he couldn't seem to find anywhere, but plus his bow tie, now hanging limply, untied, around his neck, when he bent over to tie his shoelace and completely overbalanced. He fell to the floor with a heavy thud and a hastily silenced groan of pain. He jumped to his feet again as quickly as he could, but it was too late; the body in the bed began to stir. He froze.

'Hey you,' she said sleepily, then seemed to cotton on to the fact he was no longer next to her. The smile on her face began to fade. 'Where are you going?'

Damn, he thought, this is where a name could come in really handy to ease his way out of there. He glanced quickly down at the desk, hoping there might be something like a letter or a folder there with her name on it. No such luck. Wide doe eyes were still staring up at him, and he knew he had to say something, and quickly, else things might get a bit ugly. He decided to go with Lorna. She looked like a Lorna, all petite and feminine, brunette, very innocent and pretty looking. Well, not _that _innocent, if last night was anything to go by, he smirked to himself, a few more memories returning, but still.

'Umm, Lorna…' he began to flounder.

Realisation filtered into her eyes. 'Were you about to do a runner on me?' she asked, with a distinctly unimpressed expression on her face. If looks could kill, he'd be extremely unhealthy right now.

'Umm…' he tried again, reaching for the door handle as he did so.

Before he knew quite what was happening, the girl in the bed grabbed a half empty wine glass from the shelf next to her, and with a shout of rage, hurled it at his head. Luckily for him, it just missed. He felt it whistle past him, smashing into an explosion of tiny pieces against the wall only inches from his left ear.

'Get out,' she screamed at him.

He didn't need to be told twice. As he dashed out of the door, he heard 'And my name's Laura, you bastard,' echoing after him.

A couple of minutes later, and he was strolling easily back to his own Halls, unaffected by the incident. As it was still early and the streets were fairly quiet, he was largely successful in getting home without getting caught, although he got heckled by a couple of guys he didn't know who walked past.

'Walk of Shame!'

He grinned at them, having the grace to look a touch guilty, acknowledging the truth of what they were saying.

'Good on you mate.'

He liked London, he decided. It was definitely a good move to come here. He'd picked here rather than going to university at home in Croatia because he liked the idea of an adventure, doing something different. He was an only child and although his parents had been far too sensible to smother him as he grew up, he thought it was about time he got away, did something on his own for a change. They were both strong characters, well known by a lot of people, and although he loved them, of course, he wanted to be somewhere where he was Joe Kovac, not Abby and Luka's son. It was about time he became his own person, and going to a country where neither of them had lived seemed like a good way of achieving that. In addition, he thought it would be a chance to see a bit more of the world; he knew America pretty well, but he'd never been to England before and when he was offered a place at uni there, it seemed like one of those opportunities that just couldn't be passed up.

Medicine interested him because he'd been brought up with it. He'd learnt complicated terminology like other kids learnt the alphabet, and had spent more time shadowing his parents and other doctors than probably most of the rest of the people on his course put together. He wasn't going it just because he didn't know anything else – he was one of those sort of people that could turn their hand to pretty much anything they tried – it genuinely fascinated him, the way the human body worked, far more complicated than any computer or machine. Also, the whole helping people thing; it was a cliché, but he knew he would really get a kick out of actually making a difference. He wanted to do a job that _mattered._

As well as that, he was shit hot at science and anything academic, and he thought his teachers might have done him a serious injury if he hadn't gone on to something demanding like medicine.

Joking aside though, he knew it would make his parents proud as Hell if he went on to become a doctor, so he wanted to do it for them too. They had always supported him in everything he had wanted to do, always been there for all his football matches and sports days and prizegiving ceremonies, despite the impossibilties of their schedules, so he wanted to give something back to them as well.

He'd flown over here on his own. His parents had offered to come with him, but he didn't have all that many belongings to take with him, so it wasn't as if he couldn't manage the baggage, and he wanted to do this on his own from the start, to make it _his _thing. They had taken him to the airport, and waved him goodbye from the departure gate. His mum was determinedly unemotional as she gave him a tight hug, and told him to look after himself, have fun, and work hard. His dad however, had the hint of tears in his eyes. He told him something his father had said to him when he left for America. 'We only part to meet again, son,' he said. Joe liked that phrase. It was good, solemn but not with the finality of a goodbye.

And it was with those words echoing in his ears that he boarded the plane.

He'd only been here in London a week, but he was already loving it. So far, it had been everything he had hoped it would be. He had been blessed with his father's height and dark looks, and had been using them, along with his Croatian charm and foreign accent, to have a _lot _of fun. He supposed he could be called a bit of a womaniser, but from the impression he got from his mother, he was no worse than his dad had been in his day anyway. And in his defence, this morning's episode with Lorna, no, Laura, was rare; he usually made sure he knew their names.

All in all, Fresher's Week had been fantastic; it was party after party, and he hadn't got to bed before dawn once yet (twice he hadn't reached his own bed at all), but he was kind of looking forward to lectures starting as well. He was throwing himself into the social side of it all of course, but he was there to learn to be a doctor, and anyone who thought he wasn't going to take it seriously was going to be very much mistaken.

As he walked up to the front door of his apartment block, he took out his key and let himself in. From somewhere in the building, a couple of floors away, rock music was blaring out, meaning someone was either having a very late night, or an indecently early morning. His money was on the former.

Climbing the stairs, he listened to the music with a smile. Someone out there obviously had the same taste as he did. He'd been into that sort of music as long as he could remember, much to his mother's disapproval. One of his parents' friends, Ray Barnett, always gave him CDs for birthdays and Christmases. His wife, Neela, always insisted on another present as well, something he didn't have to hide from his mother (much to his father's amusement, he had to hide CDs like other teenage boys had to hide porn) but it was the music he really enjoyed. The last one had been brilliant, some original stuff that Ray and his eldest daughter, Lucy had written and recorded themselves.

On the subject of Lucy, his parents had told him that she was here at university in London as well, also doing medicine apparently. He'd kept an eye open for her, though he wasn't sure he'd recognise her if he saw her. Last time his parents had gone to Chicago, he had been in the middle of a round of exams, so he hadn't gone with them, making it about four or five years since he and Lucy had last seen each other. He was kind of hoping he'd run into her though; from what he could remember, she was pretty, fun, and shared his dual interests of music and football.

He was cut off from his thoughts by a massive yawn. Right now, he didn't much care about Lucy Barnett, or anyone else for that matter. He was definitely looking forward to crawling into bed and actually getting some sleep.


	3. Settling in

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews, please keep them coming. I'm going on holiday in a week's time, so if you want another chapter before then, you know what to do. And yes, Joe is a little Ray like I think, it wasn't intentional, but as I started writing, that's how he seemed to evolve. I'm glad you all seem to have taken to their characters, it's always a danger when you write an OC that no-one actually cares who the hell they are. As the story goes on, Ray and Neela and Abby and Luka will be making cameo appearances just to remind everyone that this is indeed an ER fic. I know this story has been a little slow in getting going, but I promise this is the last introductory chapter. The fun begins soon!

Lucy took advantage of a short break in proceedings and dashed into the kitchen to grab herself a beer from the fridge. When she got there, she felt a flame of anger leap up in her chest when she realised there were a lot fewer bottles there than she was expecting to see. Huffing angrily, she filled her arms with what was left and stormed back into the lounge.

Slamming down the remaining six pack on the table, she drew herself up to her full five feet, three and a half inches (the half was very important, woe betide anyone who ever forgot the half) and stood, hands firmly on hips and dark eyes dancing with annoyance. She happened to catch a glimpse of her reflection in the window on the other side of the room and tried to ignore just how much like her mother she looked as she let rip. 'Who drank my beer?'

The music that had been filling the room tapered off and three carefully blank faces stared back at her, all innocence. 'I said, _who drank my beer_?' she repeated, her voice getting shriller and louder as she became frustrated at their lack of response.

'Umm…'

_Useless, thieving, bloody men. _

She'd always, when her parents had told her stories of how they used to live together when they were both young doctors at County, before they were married or anything, thought that her dad's band practices sounded kind of cool, and her mum was being a bit uptight. Right at this moment however, she _entirely _sympathised with the situation her mother had so regularly found herself in. She was furious now, and these guys were years behind her dad, Brett and Nick in the Hellraiser stakes.

At the moment, they were in the middle of band practice. To her absolute delight, she had soon discovered two out of her five flatmates, plus a guy from the flat next door, were also into rock music, and they had soon gotten their act together and formed a band. Lucy played guitar, with the guy from next door, called Jamie, on drums, Benj, who was the real musical talent in the band, and played absolutely anything and finally, Dan on vocals. They all were pretty laid back characters, and Lucy had instantly hit it off with all of them.

In fact, she'd hit it off with pretty much everyone she'd met, and had become instantly popular, particularly with guys. Not only was she reasonably attractive (she didn't rate herself as any great beauty, but she wasn't entirely displeased with the reflection that stared back at her on the rare occasions she took the time to look in the mirror) she also possessed an encyclopaedic knowledge of rock music, specialising in seventies punk, and soccer, which had ensured her acceptance with almost everyone she'd met. Well, apart from the well dressed, upper class set whose Daddies and Granddaddies and Great Granddaddies had been cardiothoracic surgeons or whatever since about the time man invented the wheel, but she wasn't exactly fussed about them anyway. Some of them were all right, but she wasn't going to be losing sleep if Miss Beatrice Ponsonby-Smythe or whoever looked down her nose at her if she wore a hoodie and no make up to a lecture.

She liked the friends she had made though. Lizzie was a sweetheart, and all the lads were really good fun. They were all very much like her, easygoing (which she was at all times except in circumstances of beer or other major foodstuff stealage) and shared her love of music, which was important to her. If she was being completely truthful, she could go as far as to say she was already a little more than friends with one of them.

Dan Franklin was not quite as good a singer or musician as he thought he was, but he was smooth, good looking and charming, and she had found herself drawn to him despite the hint of arrogance in his demeanour. It had been Benj's birthday last week, and after quite a party, she'd ended up making out with Dan on the sofa… a lot. They hadn't exactly defined things as yet, but she thought (possibly due to a similar incident the following day which she couldn't blame on alcohol – the hangover perhaps?) Dan may be under the impression that they were dating. She wasn't absolutely sure whether she was as in favour of the idea as he seemed to be, but then, she liked him and saw no immediate reason why she _shouldn't _go out with him.

Her other three flatmates, Kevin, Henry and Lizzie, were nowhere to be found. They tended to make themselves scarce whenever practice began. Kevin was kind of anti-social anyway; Lucy could count on one hand the number of times she'd actually seen him, and they were just over a month into the term now – she was convinced he must be nocturnal or something. Henry was nice enough, but very much into his sports and was always off doing something that was far too much like exercise for Lucy's liking, so they didn't have an awful lot to do with each other. Lizzie on the other hand, was her medicine buddy, the only other person in the flat on the same course as herself. She was a little quiet, and didn't fit in exactly with the hard partying, outgoing set into which Lucy had so naturally fallen, but Lucy had persisted with the friendship, determined to have at least one female friend. She had succeeded in breaking down quite a few of the barriers between them, but nothing she said or did could get her interested in rock music and Lucy guessed she had probably disappeared off to the library. Even in just a month, they had already accumulated enough work to keep them more than busy.

At the moment however, her primary concern was the beer thief. She glared at them each in turn, trying to frighten them into speaking up. It was a tactic her mother had used on her and her siblings whenever she knew they were up to something, to great effect, and Lucy had only recently discovered that she also possessed the same ferocious look and had been making the most of her new found power ever since.

Eventually, Jamie caved in. 'Uhh, would it have been a six pack of Bud that's missing?'

'Yes,' she said sharply. 'I bought two, now there's one left.'

'Well, that might have been me,' he winced, preparing himself for the tirade that he knew was coming. Last week, she'd caught Benj eating her cereal and her reaction had been nothing short of spectacular. Clearly, beer was also on her list of items to be touched on pain of death.

'Why the hell did you drink my beer?'

'Because I drank all mine,' he tried hopefully.

Lucy glared for a long time, letting him think that she was weighing up whether to actually kill him, or just seriously maim him, but in the end, she just sighed. She could scream and shout, in fact, she was sorely tempted, but she knew it wouldn't make the slightest bit of difference, and next time she had beers in the fridge and Jamie didn't, he'd still drink hers no matter how many threats of agonising pain and possible death she issued. 'Next time, buy your own you lazy sod,' she said. 'As a punishment, I'm gonna stand here and drink _my _beer while you all go dry. Now, shall we get on with this bloody practice. In case you'd all forgotten, we've got our first gig on Friday night.'

Dan had seen a poster up around campus inviting bands to play at the Union Bar and he'd managed to fix up a slot for them for this coming weekend. They'd had to play a short audition, but they'd breezed it, the manager absolutely loved them, so they were all set. The Union would be a great first venue for them, it would be full of students of a Friday night and there should be a good atmosphere going. They were hoping that if this went well, it could lead to other bookings, for parties and stuff like that, as well as, eventually, in some local clubs that were for the public, not just students. Lucy knew that they were being a bit ambitious, given that they had only just formed, but she reckoned they weren't too bad, and should put on a good show on Friday. Well, at least they would if they ever got around to actually playing anything this afternoon.

Wednesdays were the one free afternoon they all had together, and they knew they had to get as much out of it as possible. Of course, they could always skip a few lectures if they decided that they really needed to put some more hours in, but Lucy was reluctant to do that. Not only would she have the voice of her conscience, otherwise known as Lizzie, on at her for putting music over her studies (her mum's nagging over the years were nothing more than mild and friendly warnings compared to Lizzie when she got going), but she didn't really like doing it. All the lecturers had impressed upon them heavily the importance of attending lectures.

They might think they were first years, and they wouldn't be learning anything important until next year, but that _simply wasn't true. _Every day, every lecture, they would all be learning something new to initiate them further into the fascinating workings of the human body… or something like that. She'd been hungover and not really in the mood for rhetoric throughout most of her introductory lectures, but she's got the gist of it from Lizzie later. She had picked up though, that skipping lectures wasn't smart.

Besides, she had her mother's words of advice echoing in her ears and she knew she was right. As well as that, her dad had told her, once she was actually enrolled to do medicine that however much fun she had with the music, she shouldn't put it over her work. He used to do that all the time, he said, even after he was qualified, and it wasn't until he'd almost finished his first year of residency that he'd actually woken up and realised that even though it might drive you crazy sometimes, being a doctor was a helluva lot more important than playing the guitar.

So far, she'd found lectures interesting, but it was a little daunting sitting in a massive room full of complete strangers, people from all walks of life, mostly people fresh out of school or from gap years like herself, but there were a number of mature students as well. What they'd actually been taught had been fairly basic, but she had been hanging around at County for years and between that and her parents and most of their friends being doctors, she had picked up a lot over the years that she figured others might not know.

Most of the lecturers were easygoing, and she liked all bar one of them, the Anatomy lecturer, who was a terrifying guy, a former Army Officer in the Medical Corps called William Jamison but was universally referred to by all the students as The Major. The others were fine if you didn't know the answer, but The Major had this way of making you feel about three inches tall whenever you didn't know or got something wrong. He made Tuesday afternoons a misery.

Blinking to bring herself back into the room again, she took a sip of her much coveted beer, and set it down. She reached down to where she had leant her guitar against an armchair, and picked it up. She felt a prickle of annoyance as Dan helped her put the strap over her head.

'Dan, I can manage thank you,' she said snappily.

'I like helping you,' he replied, sounding a little hurt. Immediately, she was hit by a pang of guilt. She supposed if she was his girlfriend, she shouldn't knock a bit of chivalry, and he was only trying to be nice. He certainly didn't deserve his head to be bitten off. Still though, personal space and all that.

'Sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you.'

'That's okay. How about a kiss to make up for it?' He smiled at her widely, and she was won over. Holding her guitar to the side, out of the way, she stood on her tiptoes and reached up to him. He kissed her softly, and she felt her lips curve into a smile against his own.

Jamie and Benj allowed them a few moments, just enough time for them each to have a good swig of Lucy's beer, before they started to heckle.

Lucy broke away from Dan, and reluctantly, he let his hands fall away from her slender waist. 'Oh, leave it out. And stop drinking my beer.'

They laughed. 'Well, if you two are ever going to actually play some music…'

'All right, all right,' Dan said. 'Three days til the big night. Let's get practising.'


	4. Friday night

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Well, this is definitely the last update before I'm off on my holidays, where I will be on a very nice little island with absolutely no internet or communication of any kind, but I'll be back in a week, so make sure you leave me lots of lovely reviews as a getting home present! And this, I think, is the chapter you've been waiting for, so I hope you enjoy it. I'm not entirely sure about my characterisation of Abby here, but in the show, she is a bit of a worrier when it comes to Joe, so I've carried that forward and hope it works.

It was Friday afternoon, and Joe was strolling back to his flat after his afternoon lecture. The lecture theatre had been unusually warm – management had obviously given in and finally turned the heating on – and now he was out in the open air again, it felt cold and he searched in his pocket for a pair of gloves that he hoped were still there from last winter. As he did so, his phone started to ring.

He smiled when he saw the number.

'Hey.'

'Hello Joe,' he heard his mother say. The line from Croatia was surprisingly good, sometimes when his parents called he could hardly hear what they were saying.' How are you, are you free for a chat for a few minutes, or are you on your way somewhere? You sound like you're outside.'

'Oh, I'm just walking home from a lecture. I've got plenty of time. How are you and Dad doing; coping without me?' he teased.

'It's utterly terrible,' Abby replied melodramatically, laughing as she did so. 'We can come home, relax, we don't have to listen to that poor excuse for music you're constantly playing…'

'I miss you too Mum.'

'So, how are you getting on? What lecture did you just have?'

'Biochemistry; piece of cake.' Abby smiled at her son's nonchalance. She'd always found the academic part of med school so damn difficult and was relieved that Joe seemed to be having a much easier time of it. Made her want to give him a good clip around the ear sometimes though.

'How are lectures going? Are you learning stuff?'

'Yeah, I am. Some of it is a bit… basic I guess, but even though most people have done work experience, there's not many who have any real hands on experience so they've got to cater for everyone I suppose.'

'Lucy Barnett would have done. She's been a Volunteen at County for years.' Joe wasn't entirely sure what a Volunteen was, but he thought it was probably some sort of young volunteer in the hospital – it didn't take much imagination to work it out. He knew the comment was just a ruse to work Lucy's name into the conversation. His mother had a burning desire for him to find himself a "nice girlfriend" who might calm him down a bit. She disapproved, he knew, of the way he was with girls, and she didn't know the half of it. She hoped that Lucy Barnett might be the girl to "reform" him or whatever, but he wasn't sure the guitar playing, black fingernailed Lucy that he vaguely remembered would serve the purpose his mother hoped for. She might serve _his _purpose though, if he bumped into her.

In his opinion, he was eighteen, and didn't really need reforming anyway. Frankly, he didn't think his mother was in too much of a position to criticise, and he knew for a fact his father wasn't. He had ten or twenty years of fun to fit in before he had to think about growing up. He hadn't been in London long, but already he had a reputation for taking one thing, and one thing only, seriously, and that was becoming a doctor. Much to the amusement and admiration of his male flatmates, and the chagrin of his female ones, he was already leaving a bit of a trail of, well, if not quite broken hearts, certainly broken bedsprings.

He sighed, and tried to deflect her gently. 'Mum, I haven't met Lucy yet. I don't know if I'd know her if I did.'

'Of course you would, she looks exactly like Neela.'

Joe shook his head. He didn't want to get into this, he wanted to talk to his mum, not argue with her. 'Are you and Dad doing anything interesting over the weekend?' he asked.

'In other words, mind my own business,' Abby retorted, although she wasn't really offended. Joe was perfectly entitled to live his own life, she knew that, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to worry about him. She just had to rely on the fact that if he really was in trouble, he was close enough to her and Luka to turn to them. He was a sensible kid underneath the front, and, rationally, she was sure he would do.

'Well…' he said, a little embarrassed that his mum had called him out so accurately. He didn't want to hurt her feelings.

'It's all right, I get the picture. No, we're not doing anything much this weekend. We both have shifts on Sunday, but we've been talking about re-tiling the bathroom so we might start that tomorrow.' She ignored her son's snort of laughter. Neither her nor Luka were remotely skilled at DIY of any kind, so the idea of them attempting to retile a bathroom was, admittedly, amusing. 'Nothing as exciting as your plans, I'm sure. What are you doing?'

'I've got tickets to the football tomorrow, I'm going with the guys from the flat, but tonight we're going to swing by the Student Union bar. There's a band playing and rumour has it they're going to be pretty good, so we thought we'd go check them out.'

'Sounds like fun. Well, it would be if they were playing music, not noise, but…'

Then he heard his dad in the background, saying something like 'leave the boy alone, Abby, at least _we _don't have to listen to it now.'

'Hey, is Dad there? Can I speak to him?'

'Sure, here you go.' He waited as the phone was passed over. 'Hey Dad,' he said in Croatian. When he was little, and first started school, where he was expected to speak Croatian, his Dad had always spoken the language to him to help him practise. Now he was completely bilingual, but it was a habit that they'd never gotten out of.

'All right, son? How are you?'

'Oh, living it up,' he answered, partly to wind his parents up, but mostly because it was true. 'How's work?'

'Same as always. I had an interesting case today, a kid who was a serial swallower. He'd actually managed to swallow his mother's hairbrush.'

They chatted easily for a little while, with Luka asking him again about his plans for the weekend, and quizzing him about who he was going to see when he mentioned the football match. When he got back to the flat, Joe wound the conversation up, saying goodbye to his dad, then repeating it to his mum when the phone was passed back to her.

He found it weird that he'd be home again in just six weeks; time seemed to be flying by so quickly. He couldn't believe he'd already been in London a month. If the next five years went this fast, he'd be a doctor in no time. _Now that was a scary thought_. Not one to be having on a Friday night though. He looked at his watch. There was just about time to have a quick shower, then head down to the Union. They'd all decided to get there early, to get a good few pints in before the music started, just in case the band didn't live up to expectations.

After they had played their third song, Lucy felt her nerves begin to fade away. It was going well, the practices had paid off and the crowd loved them; they'd just played a cover of Rod Stewart's Maggie May, which was a bit mainstream for her tastes, but Dan had a kind of husky voice so he sounded great singing it and they'd agreed to do a few crowd pleasers as well as some rockier stuff, and that one had certainly been a hit.

The cheers they got sent a thrill coursing through her body. As she paused to take a swig from the bottle of beer she had standing at the back of the stage, she felt her hands trembling with the excitement she was feeling, and the adrenaline that was pumping in her veins. She'd played plenty of times before; she'd been in a band in high school that were considered reasonably good amongst her fellow students, so they had often played at parties and stuff. On a couple of occasions, when her dad's old band were in town, she'd even been allowed to join them for a couple of gigs, her and her dad introduced in Brett's usual, overenthusiastic manner as special guests, so she was even used to playing in a proper venue to a decent sized audience, but she'd never felt this damn good doing it. She understood then why her dad had been initially torn between music and medicine. Those people out there were cheering, and they were doing it for her. She could _definitely _get used to this.

Dan smiled across at her, and she grinned back. That was another thing she could get used to she decided, as he winked at her. He was on fire tonight, and there were a collection of girls near the front that were trying their damnedest to capture his attention, but he only had eyes for Lucy. Despite her initial uncertainties, she felt a little swirl in the pit of her stomach when he looked at her like that, and as she fixed her dark gaze with his bright blue one, her eyes held a promise of later that she was very much looking forward to. They still hadn't clarified things in words as such, but they were definitely a lot closer now, and now she was responding to his attentions in a friendlier manner, he wasn't quite so irritatingly _close _all the time. Or else she was beginning to like it, she wasn't sure which.

He mouthed at her what the next song was going to be as a reminder and she nodded, setting down her bottle of beer again. Turning back to the crowd, and blinking a little against the bright spotlights that were directed onto them, Lucy waited while Dan introduced the song to the crowd, then, at a look from him, struck up the first chord.

As she did so, she noticed another pair of eyes on her. It wasn't the first time she'd seen him; he'd been watching her intently throughout the whole set so far. Lucy didn't think he'd so much as glanced at anyone else in the band for a moment.

And she felt strangely transfixed by him herself. He just seemed to… stand out somehow. Of course, it helped that he was the tallest guy in the room; he was well over six foot, more like six four or five, and had dark, almost black hair that flopped forward a little into his eyes. Oh, and his eyes. They were as dark as her own were, and (she mentally kicked herself for sounding altogether too much like a romantic novel) kind of sparkled at her as he watched her.

She couldn't help but notice how _hot _he was. Dan was attractive, but this guy was… Wow. And judging by the way he hadn't taken his eyes off her, Lucy had a feeling the attraction might be mutual.

As she watched him more closely, she decided that he might be hot, but he knew it. There were a gaggle of girls near him too, and unlike Dan, he threw his fanclub a lazy smile from time to time without taking his eyes off the stage. Yes, he definitely knew it. Just then, he took a good swig of his pint and smirked at her as he obviously realised that she was staring at him as well, and Lucy looked away in embarrassment. What was she thinking? She hurriedly diverted her attention back to the music.

The band were good, even better than he had expected them to be, but in all honesty, Joe hadn't been paying the slightest bit of attention to the music since about thirty seconds into the first song. Because that was when he noticed _her. _

The guitarist in the band was not only incredibly good, but was quite possibly the most beautiful girl he thought he had ever seen. She was short and petite, with thick black hair that fell in waves down beyond her shoulders and exotically dark skin and chocolatey eyes to match. She wasn't dressed like a hardcore rock chick; he didn't find all those gothic swathes of black clothing and too much eyeliner all that attractive anyway, but she still fitted in with the style of the band. She was wearing a black shirt, fitted so that it left none of her exquisite curves to the imagination, and jeans, with a pair of knee high black leather boots over the top of them; the scary kind, with high, high heels and pointy toes that looked like they could do a guy a lot of damage if he overstepped the mark. She had little dimples when she smiled; he'd seen those when she'd shot a grin at one of her band members after the last number, but what he perhaps found most endearing of all was this intense look of concentration on her face as she played. It was as if all that mattered to her in the world was that guitar.

That was until she'd noticed him watching her, after which she'd thrown quite a few glances his way. He tried his luck with a little smirk, but wasn't particularly discouraged when she looked away.

For all that he could hardly stop himself drooling though, Joe had a feeling there was something familiar about her. He thought for a moment that she must have been one of his recent one-night stands, but he couldn't imagine that he would _ever _have done a runner if he woke up next to a girl who looked like that. It would be straight to the kitchen to make her breakfast in bed, and charm her number out of her as soon as. He couldn't think where else he might know her from though. Lectures or something like that, he supposed.

He was still pondering it when the set finally ended. The crowd were going wild, and the band accepted the applause before waving his arms to quieten everyone down, and stepping forward to the microphone again.

'I'd just like to say thank you guys, you've been an incredible audience tonight. This has been our first gig, so tell the staff you loved us, and hopefully you'll see us here again.' Another cheer rippled around the room, although it was quite late now, and in all fairness, Joe thought a degree of the enthusiasm could probably be attributed to the overconsumption of alcoholic beverages.

'I'd also like to thank my fellow band members,' Dan continued. 'Benj on bass, Jamie on drums,' he indicated to them as he went, and each guy gave a theatrical little bow, 'and my gorgeous girlfriend Lucy, on guitar.'

Lucy? Joe looked at the girl again as she too bowed then stepped towards the guy who was doing the talking and smiled as his arm snaked around her.

Then the penny dropped. He wondered why on earth he hadn't worked it out before. His mother was right, she did look exactly like Neela. The obvious Indian heritage, not to mention her musical ability.

Lucy.

Lucy Barnett.


	5. Meeting

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Well, I'm back from holiday, which was a crazy whirlwind of cider, glitter, rain and sun (in that order!). This chapter is up so soon as I wrote part of it while I was away. I'm afraid you're going to have to wait a little for anything else, as I've got a busy couple of weeks, but as always, a few reviews will help the muses along their way. Don't think this is a particularly good chapter to be honest, but it's one of those moving the story forward ones that have to be done, but always end up being rather dull (not that I'm trying to put you off reading it, please read away!). Besides, I think I need to get back into the swing of writing again. Expect something nice and angsty next to get the creative juices back flowing again, probably a Back to the Beginning chapter or the rest of The Wedding Gift.

As realisation of the identity of the mystery guitarist filtered through his veins, all Joe really felt was a kind of triumph that, thanks to some obscure twist of fate, family history, and convenience, he had stumbled upon an infallible excuse to go over to her and introduce himself. Their mothers, after all, were best friends, and Joe had little doubt that Neela had been nagging Lucy just as his own mother had been on at him. He smiled at the thought of his mum's reaction when he told her. Well, if he told her, he wasn't sure how things were going to pan out quite yet.

It wasn't as if he _wouldn't _have gone up to her – he didn't exactly lack in confidence when it came to girls – but now he knew for sure she wouldn't simply turn on her heel and walk away. He'd gotten the feeling that despite the way she had had trouble taking her eyes off him earlier, she hadn't been impressed with his general demeanour, but now that didn't matter. He was virtually assured of a friendly reception because, a long time ago and on a different continent, their parents had worked at the same hospital. That, of course, was belittling the connection a little; there had been plenty of family holidays to and fro between Chicago and Dubrovnik, where he now lived, especially when they had been younger, and he had the feeling that their parents had been extremely close in their youth.

The fact that Lucy Barnett had become a captivatingly beautiful rock guitarist didn't matter quite as much to him now that he had worked out who she was. He wanted to speak to her now as much as an old childhood friend as anything else. Lucy had obviously grown up into the kind of person he really wanted to get to know. He hoped the same could be said the other way round, and that the initial impression that he had clearly made wouldn't stand in his way.

As the shock, well, not quite shock, but surprise at least, began to wear off, Joe's mind cleared a little and he realised that the band had left the stage, and were beginning to become swallowed up in the considerable crowd. If he didn't move quickly, he was going to miss his chance.

Abandoning his pint, not even taking the time to drain it as he normally would have done, he started to fight his way through the throng of students. Most of them were drunk and all of them were in a party mood, so it was tough going, even with the advantage of his height, but with the help of a couple of "excuse me's" and more than a couple of strategic elbowing movements, he soon managed to get himself just about within hailing distance.

'Lucy! Lucy,' he called out. There was quite a lot of noise still reverberating around the large, soulless Union bar, so he wasn't entirely sure at first whether he had shouted loudly enough to catch her attention. At first, it didn't look like she had heard.

To his excitement however, he saw her head snap around at the sound of her name, and she looked over her shoulder, trying to work out who had called out to her. She looked even more stunning, he decided, close up, than she had on the stage.

'Lucy, over here,' he tried again, adding a wave for good measure, as he had seen that either she hadn't worked out who it was among the multitude of people that was shouting at her, or else she couldn't see him in the crowd. He waited for her to spot him.

As Lucy heard her name again, she scanned the crowd of students over her shoulder. She had no idea who was trying to get her attention, but whoever it was; they had shouted her name a few times now. It was probably someone who she had been introduced to, but didn't quite remember. The accent was neither British or American, but foreign, vaguely Eastern European in origin, although she couldn't pinpoint an exact country, and despite there being something distinctly familiar about it, she couldn't place it at all. She knew she knew it from somewhere though, some deep recess of her memory. Then the person who was calling her name gave her a wave over the top of the crowd, and, her eye drawn, she finally noticed who it was.

Him.

It was that ridiculously hot guy who had spent the greater part of his night staring at her. Every bit as masculine and good looking now as he had appeared to be from her vantage point up on the stage. The only difference now was his smile; it seemed to be less cocky now, more genuine and friendly.

Still though, common sense told her that she probably shouldn't go over to him, but Dan, who she suspected would take rather a dim view of her talking to random, attractive strangers, looked to be distracted for a minute, chatting to the bar manager who sounded like he was asking the band back for another slot the following week. Besides, she had to admit, she was intrigued. She _wanted _to meet this guy. For a moment, she wondered, impressed, how he knew her name, before the bubble burst and she remembered that Dan had mentioned her name in his slightly over-effusive thank you speech.

She took a step back towards him and waited for him to fight his way through.

'Lucy, it's so good to see you again.' He sounded a touch out of breath as he hurried to reach her. Catching the slightly confused, uncomprehending look on her face, he deduced she hadn't figured out who he was yet. Smiling his stunning dark smile, he stuck out a hand by way of introduction. 'Joe Kovac, I don't know if you remember me…'

'Oh my God Joe, of course I do.' He wasn't absolutely sure whether or not her enthusiasm was down to the exhilaration of having just finished the set, a genuine delight to see him, or a minor over-consumption of beer. As she ignored his outstretched hand and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly, he thought it was likely to be a combination of all three. Not that he was complaining though, he was delighted to receive such a warm greeting.

He embraced her also, and heard her say, somewhere close to his ear, or as close as she could reach anyway, 'It's amazing to see you too. It's so great that we've finally bumped into each other.'

They broke apart, and Joe cast about quickly for something to say to prevent himself from standing there, grinning inanely, or worse, one of those awkward silences that inevitably ended with an awkward goodbye and a promise to meet up that both of you knew would not be kept.

Experience had taught him that if in doubt, a compliment rarely went amiss in any situation, and certainly could work well here. 'I can't believe it was you up there; you were _incredible._'

Her eyes were shining with the smile she gave him in return. 'Thank you; that was the first gig I've done with these guys, so I'm glad it went well.' She felt proud of the compliment Joe had given her; he'd heard the stuff she'd recorded back at home, so he was the only person around, except for herself, and she knew she was her own harshest critic, who could give what she deemed to be an informed opinion on her performance. And he liked it.

She craned her neck to look up at him a little dizzily; he must be about a foot taller than she was. She couldn't quite believe this towering, dark, _gorgeous _guy who had been eyeing her up all night was Joe Kovac, Abby and Luka's son, the bouncing baby who in all her mum's old photo albums sat alongside herself in the bath, prams in the park, on the admit desk at the hospital with their mothers hovering, worried, behind them to stop them falling. Lucy was surprised by how excited she was at the prospect of catching up with him. Her mum was right, she should have made more of an effort to find him; what if they hadn't bumped into each other tonight?

Although he was already firmly set in her mind as a friend, she would have to be inhuman not to notice how attractive he was. Before she got carried away though, she reminded herself that she was with Dan, so that aspect of Joe was entirely irrelevant.

Just then, she felt a tap on her arm, and Benj was there, reminding her of the intended after party back at the flat. She said, 'just a minute,' to Benj and turned back to Joe with a wide, welcoming smile.

'We're having a bit of a party back at ours,' she began, 'if you want to join us?' She told herself she was offering the invite on account of Joe being a family friend who she had been vaguely searching for ever since she had arrived in London, as well as him being a fan of the music, and she forced determinedly to the back of her mind just how much she wanted him to say yes.

She tried her best to pay no attention to the stony look Dan was throwing her way; he had obviously seen her talking to Joe, and he was quite close by, so had probably heard her invite him to the party as well. She wasn't trying to upset him, or make him jealous or anything like that; she hated it when people played those games, but nor was she going to stop talking to someone she wanted to simply because he didn't like it. It didn't seem fair somehow. Besides, she was sure once she'd explained to him who Joe was, he'd be absolutely fine. If Dan invited some girl she didn't know back to the party, she might be annoyed as well, it was perfectly understandable in fact, but as soon as she knew the story behind it, she wouldn't mind at all. Of course Dan would be the same.

Joe was not unaware of the glances he was receiving and looked briefly across at the lead singer boyfriend before he spoke. He couldn't have been giving him a frostier stare if he'd tried, but he wasn't going to let himself be put off reacquainting himself with Lucy simply because she had a jealous boyfriend.

'Umm, yeah, sure. I'd love to, if no-one minds.' He glanced again at Dan, so Lucy saw this time, and understood his caution.

Lucy made up her mind to ignore Dan's glares, which, out of the corner of her eye, she could see had not abated in the least. As soon as she got a chance, she'd explain the situation to him, after which, she was sure, he would be as friendly to Joe as he was to everyone else. And if he wasn't… well, then he wouldn't be quite the person she had thought he was.

She smiled brightly at Joe. 'Of course not. We have a lot of catching up to do.'

He asked her where she lived, and when she replied, he had a sudden feeling that he might know who had been the source of the incessant rock music that had been audible in his halls, and drove everyone, except him, crazy. He must have looked surprised, because she gave him a confused little frown.

'I live in the same block,' he explained. 'Actually, I think I must only be one floor up from you. I was wondering who the Hell else was into The Clash around here.'

'We're a select breed,' she laughed up at him.

There was a tug at her sleeve. 'Luce, are you coming?' Benj asked, as agitatedly as the supremely laid back musician ever got. He was eager to get home and get the party started. Probably dying for an illicit joint as well, if she knew Benj. The only things that ever seemed to get him excited were music, rocks (he was studying Geology) and the odd herbal cigarette.

'On my way,' she replied. She offered an arm to Joe, and immediately he took the hint and linked his own through it.

'Let's go.'


End file.
